


Super Swapped

by antlurrs



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Body Swap, Shenanigans, Superstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-20
Updated: 2012-06-20
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antlurrs/pseuds/antlurrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Terror steals Giggling Gumdrop's tiara-top and fiddles with it. When she gets it back, she thinks nothing is amiss... And ohhhh, how wrong she is.</p><p>(Rated for a bit of language. o3o)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Swapped

**Author's Note:**

> Just to clarify for those who do not know--This is for an AU called 'Superstuck.' The Homestuck characters are super heroes/villains! Jake is General Terror (a villain), Dirk is The Tailorbird (a hero), Brobot is Jake's henchman and named 'Otto' for the AU, Jane is Giggling Gumdrop (another hero) and Roxy is Tipsy Gambit (somewhat of a neutral party?).  
> http://generalterror.tumblr.com/  
> http://the-tailorbird.tumblr.com/  
> http://ottostrider.tumblr.com/  
> http://gigglinggumdrop.tumblr.com/  
> http://tipsygambit.tumblr.com/
> 
> Have at it, they're all wonderful. . u. <3 There are more than just these five, but since they're the only once I've written for thus far, I won't make the whole huge list of them. Anyways, enjoy! ouo

You are _so_ evil.

The grin is almost impossible to keep from your face at this point. It’s nearly three in the morning, and you are currently holed up in your room at your desk, tinkering away with your latest evil ploy. In one hand you hold a dainty little screwdriver, and in the other, a rather handsome (green!) crown-computer, a product of your latest, and hopefully, more successful schemes.

A few inches away sits Jane Crocker’s infamous Crocker Corp. tiara-top, in all it’s elegant red, curvy glory. It rests upon a clean, folded up rag to keep the dust and dirt from your work table away from it. You suppose if it was anyone else getting their mitts upon it, it would have been manhandled and broken, but you are above that! While you _did_ send Otto to steal it (you can only imagine the look on her face as the then-metallic bunny swiped it and flew away on a little jet pack) so you could mess around with it (you are a villain, after all!) you have no intention of actually _breaking_ the darn thing. You aim to make her your new nemesis, and for that, you don’t actually want her to outright _hate_ you. No, you already messed that up with your ex-nemesis, The Tailorbird.

Grimacing, you shake your head and focus on your own new computerized accessory. Now is not the time to think of Strider. Your thoughts and feelings are still a little muddled and mixed after the whole fiasco with the kiss and whatnot-

No! Now’s not the time to be thinking that! You have a scheme to… Scheme. (Good heavens, even for you, that was terrible! Oh well. It’s too bloody late to be coherent anyhow.)

You bite your lip distractedly as you put the last little screw into the crown. It’s a fantastic piece and very, dare you say, handsome. The green was the same hue as your cape. While not overtly flashy like a king’s crown, it is absolutely dashing! A companion piece to her tiara. Where she is a princess of justice, you will be a prince of evil!

But, still, you don’t really see fit to make it any flashier. After all, it’s not like you plan on venturing into public with it perched on your noggin… It wouldn’t look very good with your usual villainous attire. Besides, you don’t need to go anywhere with it; it’s a computer, and it will execute your plan perfectly from the safety of your lair, where nobody can touch you.

You stretch, yawning and glancing at the clock as you mentally run through your plan again for at least the tenth time that night. Otto would be in again for monthly maintenance, so there would be no reason to go out. You will simply lie down on your bed and activate the new software you’d planted onto her tiara-top, and presto-chango, you will be in total control of her body! And what better to do than make a goody-goody hero look like a total dork in public? It was the perfect plan!

You grin, chuckling a little to yourself. She would never know. The software you’d installed was perfectly hidden, non-threatening, and surprisingly light weight. You’d have it running before she even knew what was going on.

It was just _perfect._

“Jake?”

You give a little start, effectively cutting off your little mental plotting session. As you swivel around in your seat, you are met with the softly glowing orange eyes of your henchman, who is peeking into the room. He looks slightly displeased, and your brow furrows.

“Whatever is the matter, chap?” you ask, yawning hugely at the end of the question. Blast! You’d been so absorbed in your work that the time had gotten away from you.

Otto taps his metal foot against the tile, arms folded. “Do you know what time it is?”

Ah, _that’s_ what’s gotten his metal britches in a bunch. “Of course I do, I’m a grown man, I’m allowed to stay up past my bed ti-whaaahhhh.” Another yawn ambushes you, completely rendering your retort useless. You grin sheepishly and his eyes glow with amusement.

“Bed time. Now.”

You rise to your feet stiffly and throw a sheet over your work bench--a villain must always keep his plots a secret!--and then shuffle out into your room with him, collapsing into bed. Thankfully, you were smart and knew you’d be working into the night and had changed into your sleepwear just in case.

As you sleepily register the sensation of Otto carefully tucking you in and brushing your hair back--gosh, he’s really got more heart that many humans do--you murmur a ‘good night’ and drift off, a small smile on your face.

Things were (hopefully) going to go well, you’re sure of it.

 

~~~~

 

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you sure are peeved!

Taking it out on your enemies does help. You’re a pretty good fighter if you do say yourself, and the satisfying ‘thud’ of the current purse-snatcher hitting the ground due to a well placed punch to the nose is very gratifying.

Even so… It does nothing to get your tiara back!

You huff, hauling the dazed crook to his feet and pushing him in the direction of an awed, slack-jawed cop waiting in the wings.

Must be a new guy. Hehe.

Your mind is elsewhere as you hand the purse he had stolen back to its original owner, and with a smile and a wave, you are off once more to patrol your area of Skaiapolis.

You stop to rest on a park bench to clear your thoughts. The last guy had nearly gotten away because all you could think about was your silly tiara. Your mother had given you that! While you could always get another one, she’d made that one specifically for _you_. Who knows what Jake was doing with it?!

Nevertheless, you let yourself smile a little. There’s no way he could hack into the technology of your favorite accessory. Why, you can almost envision his frustrated face as he stomps back to you, tiara in hand, claiming that it was more trouble than it was worth--

“Hello? Earth to Giggling Gumdrop!”

A gloved hand was waving in front of your face. You jump, realizing that all of your daydream actually wasn’t a daydream at all! Jake English was, in fact, standing in front of you in his regular villain outfit, your tiara clutched in one hand as he waved the other in your face.

You spring to your feet, wasting no time in grasping him in a headlock. “Wah!”

“General Terror, give me one reason not to throw you into that fountain over there!” you scold, giving him a harsh noogie.

“W-watch the hair! Hey! Ow!”

There is just no way to take this man seriously! Especially since he is more than capable of turning the tables on you, given that he is far stronger than you are, and yet he simply let you overpower him. While he’s doing his darnest to make you his new nemesis, he’s surprisingly harmless. Far more bark than bite!

Quite like a puppy. An evil puppy.

You let him go with a small giggle, once it’s apparent that he doesn’t actually want to get away. He pouts, glasses askew and hair all a ruffle, and you just can’t help yourself. You laugh and his frown grows in intensity, though it’s pretty clear to you that he’s not actually angry.

He thrusts the tiara at you and you snatch it, a little smirk sneaking out. “So, what did you do to it?”

Surely, he must have tried to do _something_. After all, why would he send his robot to tail you that entire day? He must have been tailing you to get the timing right! He’d grabbed it after you disengaged it so that it would come off of your head. That was enough of a tip-off for you.

“What did I do?” he scoffs, “Abso-friggin-lutely _nothing_. Which is why I’m giving the infernal thing back! I can’t make heads or tails of it. You win this round, you ridiculous giggling woman.”

Your smirk grows wider and he scowls, crossing his arms. “Crocker Corp. tech too much for you? D’aww,” you tease him, and he splutters.

“Bah! Your mother is smarter than she looks.”

“Careful, she’ll come out of nowhere and stick you with a fork.”

His eyes widen and you giggle again, slipping the tiara back onto your head. Oh, how good it feels to have it back! Going on breaks was kind of boring when you didn’t have the net to surf. It was also a little disconcerting being incapable of contacting other heroes if you needed to.

“Well then, how gracious of you to actually give it back!” you chirp, poking him in the ribs. He jerks slightly, and crosses his arms.

“There’s no reason for me to keep something I can’t mess with or utilize,” he says, his nose in the air, “And I figure since it’s the only way for you to contact backup, I shouldn’t keep it anyhow, lest you should get injured.”

Your smirk mellows into a warm smile. He really _isn’t_ a villain at heart. “Thank you, Jake.”

He stares at you dumbly, then realizes what he said. Spluttering and hands waving comically, he turns on his heel to walk away. “Hmph! Until next time, then. I’ll be sure to get your goat somehow!”

You watch as he disappears around a corner, cape flowing behind him, and decide you’ve had enough of a break. As you fire up your tiara-top, you are bombarded with no less than 50 new messages with familiar pink, badly spelled text.

Well. At least things are normal again!

 

~

 

(Just around the corner…)

Your name is Jake English, and you are currently fist pumping the air excitedly. She fell for it! She thinks there’s nothing wrong with her tiara-top!

Ignoring the strange looks you get from passing people, you gleefully make your way back to the lair. Now to play a little waiting game. Soon, victory will be yours.

And it will be _sweet._

 

~~~~

 

(A few days later…)

Your name is Otto Strider, and…

Well, you’re pretty damn sure Jake is up to something. (As usual.) His behavior has been… Less than the norm. He’s been holed up in that work room of his for a few days, and he won’t tell you what he’s doing. Why did your monthly maintenance always happen to coincide with his _shenanigans?_

You hope it’s nothing too serious. After all, he’s not ever out to hurt anyone, though sometimes he ends up hurting himself more often than not.

“We’ll be in Equius’ lab for most of the day,” you inform him, and you catch the telltale twitch of a smile on his face. He’s pretty bad at holding it back and looking innocent.

“Well, phooey, I guess I’ll just have to tinker around the lair for the day,” he says with a dramatic sigh, and you narrow your eyes a fraction. He looks a little more ‘giddy’ than ‘put out.’

“Yes, that would be… Advised,” you choose your words carefully. Being based on Dirk Strider, you want to roll your eyes and outright tell him to _stay put, you’ll just get into trouble, you ridiculous endearing moron--_

But you don’t, of course.

He pouts. “I know what you’re thinking, Otto,” he says with a small chuckle, “I promise you. I’m not going anywhere. I pinky swear!” He holds his hand out, pinky finger extended.

God dammit, he’s so fucking adorable sometimes and you just want to _hug him_. Exasperated, you give in and roll your eyes, extending your own metallic digit and carefully curling it around his. “I’ll hold you to that, you buffoon.”

“Hey! I’m your boss, you’re not supposed to call me stuff like th--Hey!”

You shoosh him, and he pouts as you smile warmly, ruffling his hair. “We’ll be back later. _Stay out of trouble_ , ‘boss,’” you tease him. He gives you a playful shove, and you walk away to meet Equius in the hall.

You know he’s up to something. But you’ll just have to wait and see, like always.

 

~

 

Your name is Jake English, and you are

so

fucking

EXCITED. 

You feel quite like a child waiting for his parents to be gone so you can get into mischief. Equius’ lab is in a different building, close to your lair, but you still wait. As you peer out of your window from behind a curtain, energy builds up in your muscles, making them bunch and ache with tension. You’re so friggin’ excited! They’re walking at their normal pace, but to you, it seems to take forever to get from one building to the other.

Finally, they disappear into the door of the other lab, and you bolt away from the window and into your work room, snatching your crown from the desk. It was finally time! Time to make Jane Crocker look like an absolute moron in front of everyone. Then she’ll _have_ to be your nemesis, you’re sure of it. After this, there’s no way she’ll be able to back down from the war you’ve started.

Gleefully, you flop onto your bed and prop yourself on your mini mountain of pillows, carefully positioning the crown atop your messy hair. You’re fairly certain you’re only going to be in a simple trance once you do the transfer, so you took solace in the fact that you didn’t actually outright _lie_ to your loyal henchman/best friend. You really hate doing that, it always makes you feel so horrible when you have to.

You shake your head. Everything will be just fine. Otto has no need to worry. Really!

As you power it on, it adjusts itself to your head, the metal warming on your skin. As the little computer boots up, your excitement only doubles as you sink into your pillows, the most shit eating grin in the universe gracing your features. You open the program and use it to locate her position. Currently, she’s out and about somewhere down town. You installed a tiny camera while you’d tinkered with her accessory, and from the looks of it, it works perfectly! She’s hot on the trail of a grubby looking man clutching a purse.

You scoff as she corners him and uses her bubble shield to trap him. How incredibly cliché is that? Purse snatchers _everywhere_.

Oh well. Here goes nothing!

Smirking, you open the program and activate it. Instantly, a warm tingle starts at the top of your head and spreads all the way through your body. Your eyelids flutter as the switch begins, and your vision blacks out, your body going slack and boneless against the pillows…

 

~

 

(Across the city…)

Your name is Jane Crocker, and… You feel very strange.

You smile a little at the owner of the purse you just retrieved, swaying on your feet. She notices, and reaches out to steady you.

“Oh… Ma’am, are you alright?” Her voice sounds muffled, like your ears are stuffed with cotton. You barely register her concerned tone and nod weakly, your face pale. You feel so very tired all of a sudden!

“Hoo hoo, it’s quite alright, deary,” you try to assure her, but your signature laugh is shaky. It feels like something is trying to drag you into inky black unconsciousness. There are colorful dots eating away at the edges of your vision, and before the other woman can inquire anything further, you stagger away. You need to get somewhere safe. This is quite alarming, to say the least!

Quickly, you make your way on unsteady feet to a nearby bench, collapsing onto it and opening the emergency contact list on your tiara. You _must_ alert someone of your plight.

…

Why on earth won’t it open?!

The darkness has all but obscured your vision. A trickle of fear creeps down your spine as the contact list finally opens and you notice with muted confusion that it is lagging horribly. Once it is finally functioning, you dial in The Tailorbird’s number and set it to emit an emergency signal so he can find you, since you don’t think you can send him a coherent message anyways. What ever is the matter with you?

You felt just fine when you left your house earlier today. Nothing was amiss, not headaches, dizziness, or fatigue at all. But the shock that it had come completely out of nowhere is fading, replaced by the powerful urge to _sleep._

You slide sideways onto the bench, fear melting into numbness as you are pulled under. The last thing you register is your tiara, humming slightly, the metal biting hotly into the skin of your forehead…

 

~

 

“Jane.”

Hm…?

“Jane, can you hear me?”

A warm, firm hand is shaking your shoulder gently. You are resting against a smooth, hard surface, your legs hanging off of one side. A bench of some sort?

“Jane, snap out of it!”

You recognize that voice. It brings a warm, fluttery feel to your stomach, and your heart speeds up the tiniest bit. Your eyes slowly open, only to close a few moments later. You feel as though you’ve been slugged. Your head is pounding, and you feel a faint sheen of sweat under your bangs… Huh? Your bangs don’t touch your forehead! They stick straight up. What is going on here…? You also feel like you are wearing… A… Dress? Oh dear. That feels very strange, and quite weird.

“Jane, wake up or I’m toting your ass to the hospital.”

Jane? Your name isn’t Jane! It’s…

Oh… Oh, goodness!

Your name is actually Jake English, and the initiation of your plan was a huge success, apparently!

You force your eyes open, and they stare… Straight up into the intense orange eyes of none other than Dirk Strider himself.

“Uh, Jane?”

“Augh!”

You sit up in one hell of a hurry, nearly colliding foreheads with him. Your vision swims and you teeter slightly, sinking forward a bit. Whew, that transfer stuff is a complete doozy. He reaches out and catches you, sitting you back against the bench.

What in the hell is _he_ doing here, anyways?! Jane must have contacted him for help. Looks like she fought the transfer until the bitter end! This is no surprise. She _is_ a tough cookie, after all.

It is then that you realize you are not used to having such a high pitched voice, and your previous exclamation had come out as an intense squeak. Dirk is still staring and his hands are still clamped on your shoulders, and you realize he doesn’t have his goggles. In fact, he is in full civilian attire, ridiculous pointy sunglasses pushed atop his head.

He looks… Attractive. Wait, what?

“Jane, what happened?” he asks, and you have that weird feeling in your stomach again. You don’t have time to identify it, however, because he’s scooting closer and… “Hey, stop that!”

He’s got his hand on your forehead, right over your tiara. One of his eyebrows arches delicately at you, and you feel a blush coming on. You need to reign yourself in. Jane Crocker acts more refined than your usual bluster!

“Uh… Oh… Uh. I-I’m perfectly fine!” you squeak, grimacing at how _weird_ it is to speak using her voice, “I was just… Tired. Hoo hoo!”

If there was any time where Dirk Strider looked like he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes, it would be now. “Just tired?” he parrots incredulously, “Woman, you sent out an emergency signal to me. The one we reserved for last resorts that involve speech incapability? Remember?”

You grimace. Good grief, these damn heroes had it all figured out. “Oh! Uh… Y-yes, that one! Hehe… Er. Hoo hoo!”

Both of his eyebrows have disappeared under his bangs at this point. Oh dear. You certainly stink at acting like Jane, and he’s getting suspicious. And you’re sure having a hard time keeping your accent under wraps! Even in control of Jane’s body, it’s still _your_ brain waves. Dammit, your plan to make Jane look like a fool IS working, but not in the way you want it to! You want to go cause mischief, not make a fool of her in JUST Strider’s eyes.

“That tiara of yours is overheating a little,” he says smoothly, “Perhaps you should take it off. I always warned you about computer technology like that.”

Oh no. You must think up an excuse! If you took the tiara off of her head, it would break the connection, and you’d have to set up a new one from scratch to get back to your own body. Who knows how long it would take? You need to be ready for a quick getaway back to your own body.

You gulp visibly. “Nah… I mean… No, it’s perfectly fine. I’ve just been in the sun for too long, that’s all!”

He doesn’t look like he buys it. Drat. You quickly cast around for ideas. If you can’t get away from him, there _must_ still be a way to humiliate her…?

Quite suddenly, you realize that humiliating her in the eyes of many might actually make her hate you anyways. That is something you do _not_ want! You messed it up with Strider…

Speaking of Strider, he’s still staring at you. And his hands are _still_ on your shoulders! “…Are you sure you’re alright?”

You gulp a little. That funny little feeling is returning, and you find yourself unable to look away from his face. He’s… Really handsome up close! Now that his eyes aren’t being obscured by those damn goggles or his ridiculous shades, you can see just how _intense_ the color is.

You can feel a blush rising to your already rosy cheeks. No! What in the hell are you even _thinking?!_ It must be Jane’s own brain waves interfering with yours. She’s just a normal lady, of course she’d find Strider attractive!

…And somehow, that bothers you.

You blink, steeling yourself. Get a grip! You can use this to your advantage. Perhaps… A bit of flirting is called for. If you manage to make things awkward between them, then she’ll be annoyed enough to start the whole nemesis/hero thing! But you’re doing it purely for the sake of your plan. Yup.

As you plot mentally, Strider’s hands slip from your shoulders. You attribute the fact that you miss the contact to Jane’s hormones. And stuff. Yeah.

Quite suddenly, a loud grumble comes from Strider’s midriff. It’s your turn to stare at him. “Uh…?”

“You caught me in the middle of lunch,” he explains, standing, “So… If you’re sure you’re alright…” He glances sidelong at you, eyebrow quirking once more.

Ah! An opportunity. “Actually, Str- Uh… Dirk. I could use a bit of food myself,” you say with a small smile. You utilize Jane’s dainty figure and lean forward, batting your eyelashes at him. “Why don’t we both go out for lunch?”

He eyes you suspiciously, and you resist the urge to bite your lip. Come on, Strider, take the friggin’ bait!

“…Yeah, alright. Makes more sense to keep an eye on you after that anyways,” he says, shrugging. You mentally cheer, standing slowly to make sure you don’t topple over. “Right! Lead the way then, ch- er, ahem. Let’s go.”

You almost called him ‘chap.’ This is going to be a challenge, you can already tell. But, you can bear it. It’s not like you actually want to go out to lunch with him. No way. This is _shenanigans only_.

He slides his shades back down, and you quickly squash the little feeling of disappointment as he does. “Right. Come on.”

You skip after him, fighting hard not to grin. This ought to be fun!

 

~

 

(Across the city, at the exact same time…)

Your name is… Uh. Jjjjjj… Jane! Yes, your name is Jane. And you feel so, so tired.

You are lying on something very comfortable and warm. A bed? Yes, a nice, fluffy bed, complete with a mountain of pillows at your back. The idea of going back to sleep seems like a pretty good idea right now! You do not open your eyes, instead opting to nestle back further with a small sigh.

…But something feels very, very wrong. You’ll start with the fact that… You know you don’t have this many pillows on your bed! And didn’t you go to sleep on a bench in the park?

Your eyes crack open blearily to stare around the room. Yup, you are definitely not at home or the park right now. This room is very spacious and large, holding none of the dainty, womanly touches of your own. Why, there are guns and even a few skulls adorning the walls!

Wait. Guns and skulls?

You sit bolt upright and the room spins dangerously, a hundred different colors beginning to obscure your vision. You sink back with a small groan… And realize that you sound _manly_.

“OH GOD, WHAT?!”

You leap out of the bed, dizziness be damned! The voice that had just come out of your mouth was a deep, rich timbre, nothing like your own light, feminine voice. What the hell?! You look down at yourself.

You are not sure men are supposed to shriek like that, but shriek you did! This is not your body! You are wearing a green jacket, a white shirt, and khaki shorts. Your socked feet nearly slip on the floor as you backpedal into a dresser. Wow, that really hurt!

Dear god, yes, this is a man’s body. There’s no way you’d let your legs get hairy like that! …Okay, well, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in a man’s body. But you’re pretty sure of it!

You turn around, examining the room. You need a mirror! While you don’t see one, you _do_ see a door off to the side, ajar and revealing a nice, big bathroom. As you make a beeline for it, the dread in your stomach intensifies as you note more guns and skulls on shelves and tables. You think it should be obvious by now who the house belongs to, but your thought process is still muddled.

You step into the bathroom, noting that everything is _green_. To your relief, everything is impeccably spotless as well. You’d rather not be in someone’s icky bathroom! You wrinkle your nose at the thought and approach the mirror.

“…God dammit.”

Now you recognize the voice, because it has a face to go along with it. Impossibly green eyes widen behind square framed glasses as you reach a shaky hand up to your face. Messy black hair, buck teeth, green eyes and glasses…

You’re in Jake English’s body. And you are now starting to freak out the tiniest bit. How on earth did this even happen?

…It might have something to do with the nice green crown thing resting in his hair. Or, rather, not resting, but clinging to his forehead almost uncomfortably!

You grimace, and turn away from the mirror, making your way back into his room and collapsing on his bed. So, you’re stuck in his body… Does that mean he’s… In _yours?_ Heavens, you really don’t want to dwell on that too much. Instead, you reach up, feeling the contours of the crown. It’s quite warm against your skin, and it tingles a bit. You then realize it’s actually a computer!

Scowling, you prop yourself on the pillows, bringing up the desktop. There’s a funny looking program running on it. The title on the window simply says ‘mind swap.’

That sneaky cad! He _did_ do something to your tiara. Now you’re in his body, and presumably, he is in yours. That definitely doesn’t sit well with you at all! You try to exit the program, but the entire thing freezes. Your tiara was probably lagging because of the program. Now, you can’t even stop it! Figures.

The next thing you try is to simply take the crown off. That should stop it, right? You bring your hands up and try to slide the crown off, but it is stuck fast to your head. Dammit, that man really wanted it to be like yours, didn’t he? It won’t come off because you can’t disengage it, just like your tiara. Figures!

“Stupid stupid dumb…” you mutter, and it still unnerves you out that it’s _his_ voice you hear, and not your own. On top of that, you don’t speak with an accent, so his voice sounds even stranger! You don’t even know how long this will last, and your consternation only continues to grow. Just what is he doing out there? It’s not like you can go out and try to find him! What if someone that knows him spots you? Then what?

Looks like you’re stuck in his lair until he grows bored or something else happens.

You sigh, rolling onto your back and getting up. You can’t just sit around waiting for something to happen!

You need some help, someone you can trust. It looks, at this point, like your only option is Roxy, drunk man-in-the-middle extraordinaire. You pat your pockets, looking for any sort of communication device, and pull out a nice little smart phone. Gah, this guy is spoiled _rotten!_ But you aren’t much better, so you ignore it and open the dialer. You dial in her number and sit on the bed again, one hand hovering near your mouth in a nervous gesture. As it rings, you note that you are making Jake look absolutely girly, with your hand up and your knees cocked inward. But before you have a chance to laugh, she picks up her phone.

“Jaaaaaakey!”

Augh. Drunk, as usual. “Roxy! I need your help.”

“Jaaaakey. Jake. Jaaaaaake. Why d’you sound all funny?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Lol, your accent is gone! Wasgoinon?” You hear her laughing and snorting, and you can’t help but chuckle a bit yourself. This goofball…

“Listen, Roxy, this might sound a bit strange, but this isn’t Jake! It’s Jane!”

“AHAHAAAAAAGHFJHSGPFFT~!” She bursts into ridiculous, garbled laughter, and you realize you’d said your piece as she took a nice big drink of something, then laughed and did a spit-take. It’s totally alcohol, you’re sure of it. “Roxy, I’m serious! This is Jane! Jane Crocker!”

“Oh JAKEY. Jaaaaakeeeyyyyy. Are you sure you haven’t drunk, er, drank… Are you sure you didn’t get buzzed? Looool, yer prolly sloshed as hell, sittin’ *hic* in yer bathroom countin’ yer toes and thinkin’ ‘hey! I bet I should totes call Roxy and be like looool, I’m Jane!’”

You slap your forehead, and wince as the crown makes an indentation on your skin. “Roxy, really! I am Jane, you need to help me here! I’m in his lair, in his body! He’s got some weird crown computer on and I can’t take it off. He hacked my tiara and installed some sort of software that made us switch bodies!” you plead, “You need to come over right now and help me get this thing off, you’re the only one I can trust. Please?” Your voice must have cracked three times in the last few minutes. You keep forgetting how strange it is to have such a deep voice!

“Siiiign, Jakey.”

“Jane!”

“Lol, what _ever!_ I’mma be over soon, ‘kay?”

“Don’t drive.”

“HA, I don’t have to drive, mom’s got my sloshed butt covered. With a tablecloth. No! A quilt. Of loooove.”

“You’re ridiculous. Just hurry!”

You slide the phone shut, flopping onto the bed again. Hoooo, boy.

 

~~

 

(A few hours later…)

Your name is Jake English, and oh man, you are _flustered_. You try to just write it off as the weather (come on, it’s a nice, sunny day!) but you know it’s because you’ve spent the day with the King of Insufferable Pricks. You’ve been acting like Jane, trying to flirt with him.

What completely throws you is that _he’s flirting back_.

But, doesn’t he… Prefer men? If that was the case, he certainly wouldn’t be flirting with Jane… Would he? Maybe it’s just playful? But Dirk Strider is never playful! …At least, you’ve never seen him like that, besides the fiasco a few weeks prior.

You don’t even know how to feel! On one hand, sure, he’s totally flirting back because Jane is very attractive and outgoing, and quite a nice woman! But then that fluttery feeling in your stomach just _will not go away_. You’re actually being affected by the flirting, and it’s just… So confusing.

And then, there’s a feeling of… Jealousy? Oh, heavens no! You are _not attracted to him_. No way, no how. He’s a jerk, and you’re his ex-nemesis for a reason! Why, you’re fairly certain he hates you. And yet… That actually makes you sad.

“Earth to Jane.”

You startle a bit as he waves his hand in front of your face. Both of you are sitting in front of a nice little café, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the main roads. And… He’s sitting quite close. His arm is even around the back of your chair!

You are equal parts jealous of Jane, slightly giddy, and absolutely fucking _confused_. But gosh, does he ever smell nice. His cologne isn’t overpowering at all. It wafts around him on the breeze, and you’re quite taken with how good it smells. He’s even taken his shades off, hooking them into his shirt since you both are under a tree. His arm is warm around your shoulders, and now he’s gently smiling at you, and oh god he’s smiling at you wait what.

“Erm… Y-yes?” you stammer, offering a sweet smile. He smiles easily back at you, and your cheeks color a tad more.

“I was asking if you’d like a refill on your drink,” he says, “Were you thirsty or something?” He gestures towards your soft drink, and you grimace. Jane would probably kill you if she found out how much of the sugary drink you’d consumed in the few hours you’d been with him. You’d been nervously sipping it the whole time!

“Oh! I, uh… It must be the heat. Yes, I’ll just go refill that,” you say. A few minutes away, and you should be able to clear your head. But before you can even stand, he’s got a gentle hand holding you in your seat by the shoulder.

“Allow me,” he says, and you practically melt. Oh god, _snap out of it_. You are not attracted to this man, you are supposed to dislike him! Augh!

“Of… Of course,” you say. You can’t help but smile sincerely this time. He smiles back with a little wink and takes your cup, walking back into the café. _Be friggin’ still, my stupid beating heart_.

Once he’s gone, you go into full fucking panic mode. You can’t keep up with this, you just can’t! Making Jane look like a fool is not worth it if you have to mess with your own emotions and put them on the chopping block. You’re going to end this, and then you’re going to have a movie marathon with Otto and stuff your face with comfort food until you pass out!

You stand, looking around, and then you dart around the corner into the alley. It was time to put an end to this for today! You reach up, tugging at the tiara, but it won’t come off. Oh, you need to disengage it! You’d forgotten in your flustered state.

As you bring up the desktop, you note that the tiara has been quite hot this entire time. Your head is starting to hurt a little bit as well. But as you go to exit the program so that you can be automatically switched back, the entire thing gets unbearably hot and shuts completely off!

…Uh oh. You’re going to be in control of her body a bit longer than you thought.

“Oh, bollocks!”

“Such language, Jane.”

You screech in shock, whipping around to face the speaker-- And get slammed into the wall.

ohgodohgodohgod _ohgodwhat’sgoingonI’mgoingtodie--?!_

You hyperventilate as you realize that it was Strider pinning you to the wall, his hands clamped none to gently on your shoulders. The gentleness of his earlier actions had completely dissipated, leaving behind a no-nonsense conduct that had you reeling already.

You gulp, and those intense orange eyes bore into yours, a hawk eyeing it’s prey. “Ditching me with the bill, huh, Jane?” he drawls, “That’s not very nice. I thought you were more polite than that.” Ha! Score one for you on making Jane look like a jerk!

He leans in--oh god, what is he _doing?!_ \--until his mouth is next to your ear, his breath ghosting over your skin. You shiver and he grips you a little tighter--

“Jig’s up, English,” he says, and you can feel the smirk in his voice. As you go completely rigid, his smirk widens.

“I-I-I have no bloody idea what you’re insinuating, Strider, but… Oh. Oh frig. I screwed that up royally, didn’t I?” Your word choice and full return of your accent was enough to blow your cover, even if it was all through Jane’s voice.

“Pretty much. Did I also mention how terrible you are at flirting?”

Indignation and horror are battling it out on your features, your face flaring red. “Th… That was the point! To make her look bad. And how in the hell did you even figure it out?!”

He takes his hands away from your shoulders (did you imagine that little squeeze before he did? You probably did.) and rolls his eyes. “Dude, come on,” he says, like you’re underestimating his intelligence, “You didn’t want to take the tiara off, but it was also overheating. She _always_ takes it off for a while if it does that. Plus, you kept slipping the whole time, your accent was getting out, and did I mention your horrible flirting skills? A lesser man would have been getting the fuck out of dodge--”

“--I was _trying_ to make her _look bad_ \--”

“--And anyways, I know the tricky shit you can pull with computers like that. Your acting skills are pretty low shelf anyways.”

You scowl, crossing your arms and huffing. “Hmph! You just don’t listen, do you? My acting isn’t bad, I was trying to make herMMPH?!”

His hand is clamped across your lips before you can even blink. “I heard you the first time,” he drawls, “I guess you accomplished your mission, but only halfway. Kinda ruins it when the other person knows what the fuck is going on, you dig?”

You can only glare at him. He pulls his hand away and then mirrors your stance, crossing his arms. “So. You gonna end the whole thing or what? Go back to your own body and let Jane have hers again, yeah?”

“I was _trying_ before you so _gently_ alerted me of your presence,” you bite, “Besides, it’s… Suddenly more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“I can’t get this blasted tiara to function! It overheated and then shut off before I could stop the program,” you say, grimacing and rubbing at your head, “If I was able to, I would have switched us back immediately, but it completely went belly up for the time being.”

Strider stares at you with his eyebrow raised again, and you growl. “Put that thing back down or I’ll shave it off in your sleep!” you grouch, but he ignores you as his phone sounds off in his pocket. He pulls it out to read a text. You scowl, crossing your arms and tapping your foot.

The next smirk on his face is highly unsettling. “What?”

“It was Roxy. She’s at your lair.”

Your eyes widen. Oh god! Why is she there? What happened? And further more, who let her in?

“Looks like Jane’s been freaking out in _your_ body,” he says, snapping you out of it, “Come on, let’s get this shit sorted out.”

Your mind is reeling now. You thought you’d be in a trance! But it looks like the software is true to it’s name--It swapped both of you, and now she’s in control of your body.

As you huff and follow him away from the café, you mentally admit it--this plan is turning out to be a little less than perfect.

 

~

 

(A little bit later, across the city…)

Your name is Jane Crocker, and you have a massive headache. That damn crown has long since overheated and shut off (and now you’re totally stuck in this buffoon’s body!) and Roxy still doesn’t believe you.

“Come onnnn, Jakey, have a drink with me.”

Roxy’s sprawled on Jake’s bed, a bottle of vodka produced from her sylladex an hour ago already half gone. She’s somehow still coherent and able to stand. How does she even do that?!

“I’m _not_ Jake, Roxy!” you say for the tenth time that day. What will it take for her to believe you? “Who have you been texting?” you ask, changing the subject. You want to rub your temples, but they’re under the rim of the crown.

“Lol, ‘m textin’ Dick--I mean, Dirk,” she slurs, giggling, “He says you’re there with him but I don’t believe him. I tol’ him, I said ‘Jakey’s here with meee,’ and he’s like ‘no, he’s here in Jane’s body’ and I’m like ‘loooool.’ Are you guys playin’ a joke on me?”

“No, Roxy, we’re not,” you sigh, “Honestly, woman--”

“Jake? We’re back.”

You and Roxy both squeal in surprise--and Roxy laughs at you because “Boys aren’t s’posed to scream, Jake!”--as the metallic voice of Otto cuts through the door. Good, this is just what you needed! Otto might be number one henchman to a villain, but you feel you can still trust him. You stand, running to the door and flinging it open before Otto could do it himself. His arm is half raised, and he lowers it slowly.

“I see you’re wearing the crown you’ve been building…” he says slowly. He then notices the tightness around your eyes and how your lips are pursed together. “…Are you alright? You’re pale.” He raises his hand to place it against your forehead, but you catch his hand in yours as Roxy guffaws in the background.

“Listen to me for a second, dear,” you start, and his eyes widen because _oh god, what happened to your accent, Jake?_ “I’m not Jake.”

At this, his eyes darken to a reddish orange. You wince as metal fingers clamp around your wrist, hard enough to bruise. “Then who are you?” he asks. His voice has a threatening edge to it.

“He’s been telling’ me this whole day that he’s Janey!” Roxy pipes up, staggering over to you and draping herself across your shoulders, “Says that they got mind swapped or somfin’ by this here doohickey.” She taps the crown, and immediately Otto’s grip slackens and his eyes go back to normal. You smile apologetically at him.

“I know I’m not your master, but please help me. Will you?” you ask. It’s weird to be basically eye level with him, since you’re normally shorter than Dirk.

He nods. “I am terribly sorry, Jane. How long have you been switched with him?” he asks, ushering you towards the bed. He gestures for you and Roxy to sit.

“Quite possibly a majority of the day. I’m not sure how long I was unconscious after the transfer,” you admit, “Roxy’s been keeping me company since I woke up. But she hasn’t believed me at all.”

“Oh, trust me, I believe you,” Otto says with an exasperated smile, “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

Goodness, such a gentleman! “I’ll just have some water. I have a terrible headache from this thing!”

He nods, walking away towards the kitchen area. You sink to the bed and Roxy grins at you. “Well, now I believe ya,” she says, swigging her drink, “How’s it feel to be in a dude’s body, Janey?”

You roll your eyes. “Weird. It feels slightly uncomfortable to be a woman in a man’s body… Especially with hairy legs!” You wiggle them and she snickers.

“Check anything out yet? Is he a stud? Is he huuuuung?” she asks, grinning from ear to ear. It takes you a moment, but in the end, you settle on punching her lightly, being mindful of your new muscular frame. “I am _not_ focused on checking out Jake English’s _package_ , thank you very much, Lalonde!” you huff, crossing your arms.

“I leave you ladies alone for a few minutes and now you’re talking about his dong? Classy.”

For what must be the hundredth time that day, you squeal in surprise. Roxy rolls around the bed laughing uproariously. “Loooool, Janey, you’re making him sound like a gay guy!”

“I can’t help it!” you cry, “I’m a woman!”

Roxy laughs even harder.

Otto hands you a glass of water and two pills. “I have no idea how long he’s been planning this, or what for in the first place,” he says, eyeing the crown, “Perhaps… I should have known when he made me swipe your tiara.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you smile. “You think? By the way, the bunny chassis is adorable, even if it was my annoyance of that day.”

He offers you a smile as you down the water and the pills. Roxy pulls you down on the bed again, and the three of you lapse into a small silence, which is quickly broken by Roxy’s phone buzzing.

“It’s Dirk!” she says, grinning at the screen, “They’re almost here. He also says Jake is terrible at flirtin’, haha.”

Otto’s eyes widen again and you feel your face flare red. “Oh my god, flirting?”

 

~

 

(At the same time…)

Your name is Jake English, and you’re still not sure what to think at this point. You and Dirk are both en route to your lair, but even though the cat’s out of the bag… He’s still flirting with you.

You allow the growl of the engine in his truck to fill your mind, trying to blank it out. You both were in what was presumably a comfortable silence, and that in itself is bothering you. Just what had happened? Weeks ago, you two saw nary a hair of each other, and when you did, it was glares all around and a quick turn-on-heel to get away. You’d announced your hate, your desire for a new nemesis. And oh, how cruel you had been to him!

Yet, you’re here now, in his truck, on your way to your lair to fix things, and he’d been making small talk the entire way. It was… Relaxing. Of course, it was all interlaced with your usual back and forth insults and banter, but it just felt _right_.

You loathe to admit it, but you missed this jackass.

All too soon, though, you are pulling into a nice, inconspicuous driveway, and he cuts the engine. You both climb out, and you grimace as the sun shines into your now sensitive eyes. Your headache has gotten worse, the tiara is far too tight!

He notices, and you catch a concerned look before it disappears to be replaced by his usual poker face.

“Lead the way, ma’am,” he says, smirking. You scoff, walking up to the front door, and raise your hand to put in the pass code--

But before you can, the door is flung wide and you are greeted with the glowing eyes of your henchman! He taps his foot on the ground, arms crossed and brows cocked, as if to say _you’re in deep trouble, mister_.

“Hehe… Uh, hello there, chap!” you giggle nervously, “L-listen, this isn’t as bad as it--UWAH!”

Otto flash steps forward (dammit, Equius really outdid himself when he built this guy) and in one fluid movement, slings you over his metal shoulder like a sack of potatoes in a dress. It’s a good thing the dress is long enough to cover your butt!

“You almost flashed Jane’s ass at me, man.”

“Dude, it might be an ass, but you’re not attracted anyways.”

“Touché.”

Your face is quite close to matching the hue of the tiara at this point. “Otto! I can walk on my own, you know!” you whine, and you hear Roxy laughing in the foyer. Oh god, why is she still there?!

“Oh my GOSH Janey, did you hear that? He’s totes making you sound all English and stuff with his accent!” Ugh, of course, she’s drunk as well. When is she _not?_

“Shut it for a second, Roxy!” you snap your gaze up--to stare straight into your own face! …Goodness. Try as she might to be angry, it… doesn’t exactly work with your face. Or maybe she’s not trying hard enough!

“Stop pouting, Jane,” you quip, “You’re making me look terrible.”

“Who’s making _who_ look terrible?! Just what have you been doing all day?!” she growls, and she hauls you off of Otto’s shoulder by your collar. You know you’re strong, but damn!

“N-now, wait a second, put me down!”

“Hell no, you’ve got some explaining to do!”

“Children,” Dirk says, “Why don’t you both go inside, fix the computers and get back to your original bodies _before_ laying the smack down on each other, yeah?” But before either of you can pull apart, Jane gives you a little shake for good measure. Your strong capabilities seem to throw her off balance a little, and you both go sprawling to the floor.

Your dress flips up!

Dirk and Otto avert their eyes, but they both have completely shit eating grins on their faces.

“JAAAANEEYYYY, YOUR PANTIES ARE SO CUUUUTE!”

“OH MY GOD JAKE, CLOSE YOUR LEGS! I mean… close my legs! Oh shit, that sounds horrible.”

You could probably cook an egg on your face at this point. Otto immediately sweeps you off the floor and sets you on your feet. You don’t miss the amused smile on his face. “Oh god, Otto, stop that.”

“This is completely ridiculous!” Jane says, throwing her hands in the air. “Just… Fix these damn computers already, I want to go home! You’re embarrassing me!”

Roxy jumps her and you roll your eyes at how silly it looks for Roxy to be draped all over you shoulders. “Jaaaane. Janeeeyyyy. Shooooosh,” she says, “He’s gonna *hic* fix stuff, ‘kay? And then we can go out for a drink!”

“Roxy, damn.”

“Shut up, Dick! Dirk!”

Otto places a hand on your shoulder. “You can fix this within the day, yes?” he asks, and you grin sheepishly, rubbing at your forehead where the tiara’s been sitting.

“I think the computers were just too hot. But it’s been quite a while, they should be able to pull off another transfer,” you say, “I’m quite ready to go back to my own body anyways. …Dresses are quite uncomfortable.”

“And accidentally revealing, in some cases.”

“Oh god, quit.”

He smiles and you huff, turning away. “Jane, we’re going to try to transfer back. Turn the crown on and open the software,” you say, and she fiddles with it. You watch a few of the gems light up, and you sigh in relief. At least it still functions!

“Let’s go sit on the bed. No need to pass out on the floor,” you say, and you lead the way into your bedroom. The comforter is rumpled, and you stare at Jane. She shrugs.

“Roxy likes to roll around when she’s drunk off her ass.”

“You sure like to cuss when yer all inna tizzy, don’tcha Janey?”

“Hmph! It’s his fault.”

You don’t reply, opting to sit awkwardly on the bed as you set up the software. Jane sits beside you, arms crossed.

Dirk snickers. “You guys look ridiculous. Your mannerisms are showing and it’s just… So wrong,” he says, smirking. You scowl and ignore him. Jane frowns.

“Mr. Strider, I will smack you.”

“Awww, babe, after that nice little date we went on?”

Everyone freezes. Otto’s metal eyebrows almost fly off of his face.

 _What the hell, Jake?_ he mouths at you. It looks like he’s caught between an incredulous smile and simply letting his mouth fall open. You’d laugh, but you can see the murderous look on your own face a foot away, and realize Jane might actually use your body to punch herself in the face, common sense be damned right out the door. Oh, shit!

“Transfer time!” you squeak, and hurriedly start the application.

The last thing you see and hear before you pass out is Otto shaking his head, and Roxy’s giggles filling your ears.

 

~

 

Your name is Otto Strider, and you’ve been pacing for the last five minutes, waiting for them to wake up. How long does it even take? Is it safe to do more than one transfer between the same two people in the span of 24 hours?

“Chill, man,” Dirk tells you from his place on the foot of the bed, “When Jane contacted me it took me around five minutes to get there, and the effects were already starting to wear off by then.”

“I know,” you say, “But… I don’t trust those kinds of computers. Skeevy stuff, man.”

He rolls his eyes. “I warned them about that shit.”

“You told them, dawg.”

“Word.”

Roxy giggles from next to Jane. “Hey, I think they’re wakin’ up now!”

Dirk sits up, and you kneel next to Jake, waiting. Both of them are stirring slightly, and Jake’s the first one to open his eyes. You smile as he sits up and leans against you, fiddling with the software and disengaging the crown. It loosens and slides down over his eyes, but he hurriedly takes it off and chucks it across the room. It lands in the laundry basket.

“Ten points!” Roxy says, throwing her hands up. Jake chuckles, rubbing at his forehead. There’s a painful looking indentation on his skin from the crown.

“Are you alright?” you ask him, and he nods sleepily. “I think I’m done with experiments like that,” he says. You hug him and lightly bop him on the nose.

“Hell yes you are.”

He jumps and Dirk laughs as Jane sits up, disengaging her tiara stowing it in her sylladex. “Next time you pull a stunt like that, I’m kidnapping Otto’s bunnybot chassis and sticking it with a nice big bow. And then I’ll parade it around town!” she grouches, jabbing Jake in the side.

Dirk snorts, and you level a glare at him. “I’d… Rather you not did that. I might be a robot, but I have dignity, man.”

“Then you keep your silly boss in line!”

Jake pouts. “I was only having fun.”

“Yeah, fun.”

“Shut up, Strider!”

You note with a bit of surprise that Jake’s voice held no venom. Dirk had said something about a date. Just what had actually happened out there today?

Before you can inquire, however, a loud smack rings through the air, and Jake sprawls sideways into your lap, holding his cheek. There is an impressive, perfect red handprint adorning the skin, but he merely grimaces. “I… Should have seen that coming.”

Dirk outright laughs this time. Jane is already on her feet, tottering away towards the door. “Roxy, I’m taking you up on that drink offer. I quit for today!” she says, and Roxy giggles, giving Jake a quick hug and skipping after her.

You watch as Dirk stands, eyeing Jake for a second before sticking his hand out. “Nice to see you again, English.”

With the hand he’s not holding to his face, Jake immediately grips Dirk’s hand in a firm handshake. “…Yeah, you too. Now get your ass out of my house.”

With a smirk, Dirk flash steps out of sight to join the girls.

Yeah, something definitely happened out there. But unless he wants to talk, you won’t press the issue. If he wants to keep quite about it, then that’s his choice.

Speaking of keeping quiet… You look down and find Jake staring into the distance, brows furrowed in thought. But what strikes you is that he doesn’t look _unhappy_. A little frazzled from the days events, but not unhappy. More like… Thoughtful.

“Jake?” you speak softly, and he snaps out of it, looking up at you with bleary eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes!” he says, and he struggles to sit up, “But… Transferring twice in one day… I’m absolutely beat.”

You stare at him, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Hehe… Um. I’m sorry. I think I’ll stick to hijinks with you by my side from now on. That was a bit of a doozy.”

You stand, pulling him to his feet and shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Of course! Want to go watch some movies?”

You smile at him. Things are normal again. “Of course.”

His smile is blinding.

A few hours later, he is completely passed out on your chest, and for the first time in a long while, you are content. Something happened, yes. But for once, you’re happy to note that it was something good.

**Author's Note:**

> Good god, this thing is a monster! But it was lots of fun to write. ^u^ I figured I should post it here since I posted it to Tumblr already. :3


End file.
